


Nurse It, Won't You?

by cellwright



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Age Difference, Cock Warming, Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Sex, M/M, checkmate you cant call me weird when youre in the tag for this relationship, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellwright/pseuds/cellwright
Summary: Though, it wasn’t all too bad when Akira was present; When he was on his knees under the desk, offering to take some of the edge off.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Yoshida Toranosuke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Nurse It, Won't You?

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know either, my brain had an itch and i had to scratch it. happy valentines day?

“Nurse it, won’t you?”

  
  
Yoshida’s voice was heavy with exhaustion as the long hours of the day seeped into the curve of his spine and the slowed writing of the pen in his hand. He wasn’t too fond of these days, days that had to be spent in the office signing paperwork and reviewing proposals. It was all monotonous work, but it came with the job and he occasionally had to remind himself that he was happy to have even gotten the position he was in. 

Though, it wasn’t all too bad when Akira was present. When he was on his knees under the desk, offering to take some of the edge off. A lot of the edge, in fact; Akira always liked having something hot and heavy on his tongue. 

Something that made his jaw ache and stretched his lips wide enough for his mind to be wrapped in a layer of thick fog just focusing on it. There wasn’t room for anything else when his nose was buried in the dark nest of hair at the base of Yoshida’s cock and the musk curbed any thought that he shouldn’t have been doing this in his free time. 

Yoshida appreciated it at the end of long days when he couldn’t go out and speak to the people like he wanted, and all it took was a glance down at Akira’s wide, watering eyes to alleviate some of the tension between his shoulder blades. 

He carded his fingers through Akira’s unruly hair, and a tired chuckle escaped him. “Are you alright?”

  
  
Akira, with his usual tenacity, did his best to nod. His flushed skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, a tell that he was offering more effort than he wanted to be evident, and all Yoshida could admire was how hard his boy was trying, just for him. All for him. 

Yoshida tightened the grip of his fingers between Akira’s locks and gently tugged his head back, easing him off his thick cock. 

Akira’s blown out pupils were partially hidden by the weight of his eyelids when he gazed up at Yoshida like he was a mirror that was just too hazy to make an image out of. White leaked out the corner of his parted, puffy lips. It was no surprise— Akira had been down there for so long, and there was only so long a man like Yoshida could resist when a pretty little thing like Akira took care of him so gently, with so much devotion clouding his eyes. Like he’d do anything Yoshida would ask. 

He might have, but Yoshida wasn’t the one asking for treatment like this in the first place. Something stopped him from contacting Akira first— The guilt, the taboo of it all. 

But Akira always wormed his way back into Yoshida’s life, whether it was meeting him every sunday to hold his speech signs up or finding him in his office on days like this. 

Days like _this_ could have meant paperwork days, though Yoshida couldn’t have pinpointed when it became so much more. When this was customary— When Akira couldn’t find him anywhere in Shibuya square and resorted to calling him to ask where he was, as if he didn’t already know. 

Yoshida might not have called him first, but he wished he had the courage to. 

“There we go,” he said, the words rumbling down his spine. His hands traveled down either side of Akira’s face, almost engulfing his head entirely with the size of them. A thumb idly grazed over the corner of his mouth, swiping the cum away and wiping it on his pants. Akira leaned into the cradle of Yoshida’s hands, eyes fluttering shut with a soft sigh in his radiating warmth. “Come up here, boy.” 

His words were so delicate, like the slightest gust of wind would tear Akira apart and he couldn’t risk speaking too loudly to shatter the fragile atmosphere. Sometimes Yoshida forgot just how young Akira really was, past the sharpness of his features and abundance of confidence. 

With some difficulty, Akira pushed himself up off the ground with trembling legs and all but fell onto Yoshida when he managed to half-stand, half-clutch onto Yoshida’s thighs for support. 

Yoshida took care to hold him up by his hips though, tugging his uniform pants back up his thighs and tucking him into them before zipping him up. He’d have to return home with the evidence of his own pleasure sticky between his legs. The visual was more pleasing to Yoshida than it should have been, but he was distracted from the perversion in his mind with the perverse sight in front of him— 

—Akira shaking, at a complete loss for words, barely holding onto the table behind him as Yoshida did up his own pants. His breath came in short pants and Yoshida quietly shushed him, finally moving his hands to Akira’s hips and guiding him down onto his thighs properly. 

Akira went boneless as soon as his legs fell on either sides of Yoshida’s thighs and he could sigh in content, finally giving his knees a rest after what felt like hours on them. Yoshida brought a hand up to the side of Akira’s head, pressing a finger onto the space between his skull and jaw and massaging small circles onto the skin. 

“You did so good, my boy.” 

Akira had some energy left to preen at the praise, lips twitched up in a sleepy smile. Yoshida leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth, continuing to murmur, “So, so good. Are you tired?” 

He asked despite already knowing the response Akira would give, which was confirmed by the stubborn shake of his head a moment later. He looked almost as tired as Yoshida did before though— It was to be expected that the amount of effort Akira put into staying still and quiet for so long was going to put a strain on his body, but Yoshida only wanted to return the favor he was given. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” came the next question. 

Yoshida supposed that was already what he was doing, but they both knew what it meant. 

With a final, hazy nod, Yoshida watched Akira’s eyes flutter closed when he leaned further into Yoshida’s touch, seeking the reassurance that his soft hands were there to catch him no matter the situation. 

Perhaps days like these, stuck in his stuffy office with the blind half down during sunset, weren’t so bad. Not with Akira there. 

**Author's Note:**

> do i even wanna link my twitter here... okay [here](https://twitter.com/cellwright)


End file.
